Candy just shook her head. “I didn’t mean to hurt her.”

I felt my heart lurch when she said that.

“I know,” Rachel said gently. “It’s okay. Just tell us what happened.”

“Ashley was my best friend,” Candy said.

Ema glanced at her watch, then at me. I knew what she was thinking. The “boys” would only be patient so long with Rachel’s “tinkle.” We had to speed this up. Ema moved to the door to keep guard.

Rachel said, “You need to tell us what happened, Candy.”

Candy nodded, pulled away. She wiped away her tears with her sleeve. “We always said, Ashley and me, that we would get out of here together. You know? We had plans. We’d run away to California. We’d leave this all behind. It was just a dream. I mean, we both knew Buddy Ray would never let us go. But…” She looked up at Rachel, her eyes pleading. “Ashley escaped. Don’t you see? I thought Antoine had gotten her. But she ran away. And she didn’t take me with her.”

“She left you behind,” Rachel said, trying to sound understanding.

“She swore she would never do that,” Candy said, crying again. “He”-now she pointed her chin at me-“he told me that Ashley was fine. That she was in some rich-kid high school. How could Ashley do that to me?”

“So you set her up,” I said.

Her eyes shot hard at me. “I didn’t have any choice. Buddy Ray knew I helped you. He told me if I didn’t help him get her back, he’d kill me.” The tears started flowing again. “How? How could Ashley have just left me like that?”

“She didn’t,” I said, not wanting to go into details about Antoine’s real identity or the Abeona Shelter. “She was taken by surprise. If she contacted you, it would have risked everything.”

“So Ashley didn’t…?”

“She didn’t abandon you, no. Now, if you know where Ashley is…”

I looked at Ema. She was still checking outside the door. I turned back to Candy. Her face had fallen.

“There’s no hope,” Candy said.

A cold gust blew across my chest. “What happened?”

“You’re just a bunch of kids. You can’t defeat Buddy Ray. Do you know what he’ll do if he even knows I talked to you?”

Candy quickly rolled up the sleeve of her blouse. We squinted at what she was showing us. It didn’t register at first. Then Rachel gasped out loud.

There were two fresh cigarette burns on Candy’s arm.

“There’s more. That’s all I can show you.”

“Oh my God,” Rachel said.

I felt my stomach do flips. “And he has Ashley? Where are they?”

Candy shook her head.

“Please tell me.”

And then Candy did something that truly chilled me. She slowly lifted her head and looked all the way across the room. I followed her gaze and saw now that Candy was looking at a door.

The door that led to the dungeon.

Suddenly there were voices coming closer. Ema turned and harsh-whispered, “Mickey, hide!”

I didn’t wait. I dived behind some throw pillows just as three men and one woman-the matronly one I’d heard on the phone-turned the corner and entered the room, pushing Ema aside.

“There you are, Bambi,” the woman said. She had a big beehive hairdo and cat-eye glasses. “All set, dear?”

From behind a pillow I tried to flatten myself down into the floor.

“Where have you been?” the man with the rough voice asked.

“Tee-hee,” Rachel said. “I was trying on outfits, silly.”

“Well, then why are you still wearing the same clothes?”

“Ummm, uh, nothing fit.”

I positioned myself behind the pillows in a place where I was able to see. Another man entered the room. He stopped short. “Wow,” he said, taking in Rachel, “you weren’t kidding about her.”

Along with Beehive, there were four men here now. None of them was Buddy Ray. So where was he? I thought about Ashley, about that monogrammed sweater and the pearls and how she was trying so hard to escape from this life. I thought about the way she looked at me, with such hope, and how, right now, she could be behind that door, in the dungeon.

Alone with Buddy Ray.

“Okay, this is perfect anyway,” Beehive said. “We can do the auditions right here, right now.”

“Now?” Rachel said.

“Sure, why not?”

With Beehive taking Rachel’s hand, the four men all dropped onto the throw pillows. The one with a rough voice landed right near where I was hiding. His back was less than two feet from my head. I held my breath, afraid to move.

The guy near me growled, “Candy, what are you doing here?”

“Who, me?” Candy said. “Nothing.”

“Then get out, will ya? And close the door behind you.”

“Yes, Max. Right away.”

Candy hurried out, and per the man’s command, she closed the door behind her.

“Okay, Bambi,” Beehive said. “Let’s get you up on that stage so you can show us what you got.”

“Now?”

“Right now.”

Rachel slowly got up onstage. She just stood there.

“Uh, Bambi?”

“I, uh, I usually like some music,” she said.

“We can sing if you want,” Max said, and there was an edge in his voice now. “But I’m getting awfully impatient here.”

I thought about going for my phone, but even that movement would reveal me. I tried to slowly slink off the pillow, move farther away from Max, and then…

Then what? What was I going to do?

Ema said, “Can I go tinkle too?”

Max waved an I-don’t-care at her. I wondered what she was up to-leaving Rachel alone-but I figured that she saw what I saw. No hope. She’d get out of the room and call 911. I remembered Juan’s warning about calling the cops, but what else could we do?

I looked at the fire door. I looked at the door to the dungeon.

“Dance!” Max shouted.

And so Rachel started dancing. There was a pole up on the stage. She ignored it. Rachel was a beautiful girl. She was stunning, with the face of an angel and a body that could not only stop traffic but make it back up a little.

But she was a terrible dancer.

She started dancing as though she were the awkward cousin at a bat mitzvah.

Beehive put her hand to her chest and groaned. For a moment the men just stared in something like horror. Then they started calling out:

“What the heck is this?”

“Dance, for crying out loud.”

“Shake it!”

“Use the pole.”

“Wow, that’s pathetic.”

“Wait, are you doing the electric slide?”

I started sliding off the pillow, an inch at a time, when Max stiffened.

“Stop a second,” Max said.

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